


Wendy's Guide to Intimacy and Self-Respect

by AllenbysEyes



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Relationship Advice, Teenagers are Jerks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 10:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13121727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllenbysEyes/pseuds/AllenbysEyes
Summary: After returning to the present, Mabel considers the next step in her relationship with Charlie. Fortunately, Wendy's on hand with some friendly advice. One-shot set immediately after Dipper and Wendy's Doomsday Defense.





	Wendy's Guide to Intimacy and Self-Respect

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one shot I wanted to write before plunging into another big story. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

**July 26th, 2018**

It rained more or less for two days straight after the Mystery Team returned from their time traveling adventure. Dipper and Mabel spent some time in the Mystery Shack, and a lot more time watching TV and movies with Grunkle Stan, Wendy and Charlie over takeout and junk food. Occasionally they even watched a good movie, as when Charlie suggested they check out The Lost City of Z (Dipper seemed particularly enthralled by the mad explorer Percy Fawcett's adventures; Wendy thought it was okay, but a bit slow), or when Mabel insisted that they watch Shimmery Twinkleheart 3, which was surprisingly self-aware and humorous for a kiddie cartoon about a talking star.

A little after lunch on the 26th, Wendy Corduroy climbed up to her favorite hiding spot atop the Shack, bringing her customary Pitt Cola. She sat down, taking in a beautiful view of the hills and forests surrounding the town, still shrouded in fog and mist after the latest shower passed. At least it was cooler, though it was still muggy, the mosquitoes still biting and the lazy summer days still dragging on as they usually did.

She thought about her plans, which promised more mundane excitement than traveling through time to save the world. She hoped to spend the following day (weather permitting, which was no guarantee) catching up on her photography in the woods. Already she'd managed to catch some nice snaps of birds during a break in the clouds; she was particularly proud of an action shot of a spotted towhee coming in for a landing outside her apartment, feathers in mid-flight, glancing sideways at the camera. Then another semi-formal dinner date with Dipper, and another night at her place watching movies and enjoying each others' company.

Then on Saturday, Robbie and Tambry would be in town. She hadn't really told them that she and Dipper were a thing, but it didn't matter: she hadn't seen Tambry in months, Robbie almost since last summer. They were attending school together at an Oregon State branch campus in Bend, a little over an hour away, but for some reason they didn't make visiting Gravity Falls a priority.

Well, that "some reason" wasn't hard to guess. Part of Wendy still wanted to move to Portland, or at least Salem, and escape small town life. She still hoped, for her last year of college, to transfer to Oregon or some other decent school provided her grades remained good enough. But she felt herself starting to put down roots in Gravity Falls, and the idea of living there permanently didn't seem as scary or limiting as it once did. She'd wait and see how long things lasted with Dipper before making a decision.

Today seemed like a lazy, uneventful day. She didn't mind not having a job this summer; she'd managed to save enough money that she could goof off for a few months until school started up again. She did mind not having anything to do, aside from the usual methods of wasting time. Just another boring, forgettable, do-nothing day.

At least until Mabel joined Wendy on the roof.

"What's up, Wendy?" Mabel greeted her, poking her head up the ladder.

"Hey Mabes, just hangin' and thinkin'," Wendy said.

"I'm taking a break, I guess," Mabel said. "By which I mean, Grunkle Stan had some Shack business to take care of and I snuck out and Dipper and Soos are covering for me." She winked at her friend.

"Ah, that kinda break," Wendy said, nodding. "Well, pull up a seat Mabel. Looks like it's finally clearing up."

Wendy wore her usual flannel outfit, while Mabel sported another of her cotton wool sweaters - this one maroon with a dark gold star emblazoned on the front. It still said Mabel, yet seemed more adult and restrained than her usual designs. She had Charlie's shooting star pin attached to her sweater, the sight of which made Wendy smile.

"I'm sick of this rain," Mabel said, scooting up beside Wendy. "Hate when it's too wet to do anything. Not that movies and cartoons aren't fun, but..."

"No, I get ya," Wendy agreed. "If it were nicer out I'd be out practicing my photography. Fortunately it's supposed to clear up tomorrow."

She turned to her friend. "How's your shoulder?"

"Oh, it's fine," Mabel said cheerfully. "Still a little sore, but those future doctors did a great job. You can barely see the scar!"

"Sweet!" Wendy enthused, handing her friend a soda. "Of course, if you had a scar you could lord it over Charlie and everyone today to show what a badass you are."

"Scars are more your thing, Wen," Mabel insisted. "I don't need a scar to prove my awesomeness!"

"You got me there," Wendy agreed.

"What kinda photographs do you take, anyway?" Mabel asked, fidgeting with her soda can.

"Mostly nature photographs, action shots of animals and junk," Wendy said modestly. "Nothing too original I guess, but I think I'm pretty good at it." She took out a small camera and scrolled through the bird pictures she'd taken that morning.

"Those are beautiful, Wendy!" Mabel enthused. "Look at this little blue bird with the water dripping off its beak! So adorable. And this little guy landing...eee! It's like he's winking at you or something."

Wendy laughed. "Thanks, Mabel."

"I remember you saying that you were into photography, but..." Mabel scrolled through a few more, beaming in excitement at each one.

"Anyway, this is just a little digital camera I got for my last birthday," Wendy said. "My real, professional camera's back in my apartment. That's the one I use for classes and photo shoots and junk like that."

"Have you submitted anything to magazines or websites or whatever?" Mabel asked. "You could make a fortune off this stuff!"

"Probably not a fortune," Wendy said, "but yeah, I have. I got two photos published in Natural Oregon magazine just last month!"

"And you didn't tell us!?" Mabel scolded her. "Shame on you, Wen-Wen!"

"I don't like to brag," Wendy shrugged.

"It's not bragging if you tell your friends," Mabel said. "You've got a talent - share it with the world. Shout it from the rooftops!" (Mabel did exactly that!) "Or at least tell the people who already know you're awesome and who want you to succeed the most."

"Okay, okay," Wendy said. "My bad. When you get off work, you can come over to my place and I'll show you some of my stuff. Mostly animals, but..." Then she remembered who she was talking to, and realized "mostly animals" was an incentive.

"I'm looking forward to it!" Mabel affirmed, handing Wendy back her camera. Impulsively, Wendy snapped a candid picture of her smiling friend.

"Hey, you'll have to pay for that!" Mabel joked. "All royalties for Mabel Pines' image have to be cleared through my agent first!"

"Noted," Wendy chuckled, taking another sip of cola.

The two girls sat silently for a moment, taking in the view. Then Mabel's smile suddenly faded. She paused and took a deep breath, looking down from the roof.

"Actually...that kinda leads into what I wanted to talk to you about," Mabel admitted sheepishly, kicking her feet back and forth.

"What's up, Mabel?" Wendy asked.

"It's...about Charlie," she said, still not looking at her friend.

"What about him?"

"I..." Mabel sighed, clearly pained and uncomfortable spitting out what she wanted to say. Given their history, Wendy half-expected her to say that he'd turned out to be a nerdy vampire or dorky werewolf or Bill Cipher in human form.

"We've been going out for awhile now," Mabel said finally. "And...he's great! For all his dorkiness he's such a great guy. And...I think I'm in love with him, though with me...it's not hard for me to fall for somebody, it's the easiest thing in the world to get a crush, as you know." She smiled for just a moment, then lapsed back into melancholy. "But...it's harder to **stay** in love. And...I think that's happening with me and Charlie."

"But, that's great," Wendy said, raising her can as a toast. "From what I've seen, you two make an adorable couple."

"Yeah," Mabel said, the smile again flickering across her face. "It's just...Blargh! Why can't I ever talk about things like this?"

"Things like what?" Wendy demanded, leaning close.

"Things like..." Mabel sighed again, chewing a strand of her hair as she collected her thoughts. "We've slept together twice. Like, I spent the night as his place that weekend we had our double date, and again in 1974. Nothing happened, just...you know, we spent the night. And I liked it a lot! Liked the kisses and the snuggles and even, like, just feeling him beside me. But lately I've been wondering...I mean we're both adults here, or technically adults..."

Wendy had a feeling what Mabel was building up to, but just nodded along silently.

"Wendy, I don't know..." She turned to face her friend. "What if we...what if he wants to have sex?"

Oh Lord.

Ordinarily, Wendy would have been happy, if not exactly eager, to help her sweater-clad friend navigate this topic. They were practically sisters, after all, and she'd helped Mabel through similarly intimate things throughout puberty and her awkward teen years. But there was a hitch, namely that she was dating Dipper, and that they had done intimate things (not exactly sex, at least by Bill Clinton's definition of the term, but certainly not G-rated conduct either) that she felt awkward, even gross sharing with his sister.

Then she realized that Mabel probably wouldn't be any more comfortable breaching that particular topic than she would be. And relaxed just a little.

"I mean, I don't know, like, anything about it!" Mabel said, acting out her anguish in her usual fashion - flailing arms, raised voice, frantic pacing. "It's like, I know what love is, I've always known what love is, or thought I knew what love is. That's easy! But like the physical side of things...I mean, I've never...That's not really something...Like, what if..."

"Whoa, whoa! Mabes, calm down!" Wendy said, a bit alarmed by her friend's obvious panic. Mabel stopped and took a few heavy breaths, then sat back down.

"Sorry," she apologized. She looked down again and sobbed.

"Hey, it's okay," Wendy assured her as gently as possible. "It's okay. Everybody gets nervous about that stuff."

She smiled but bit her lip, thinking, making sure that she would say the right things to her friend. She could tell that the topic didn't just upset, but seemed to terrify Mabel, and she knew she had to tread as carefully as possible.

"Okay, let's start at the beginning," Wendy said, taking on her most sisterly tone. "So, has Charlie said anything to you about it?"

Mabel shook her head. That didn't surprise Wendy.

"Okay. Has Charlie ever done anything to indicate...like, has he come on to you, felt you up, done anything aggressive or pushy?"

"No," Mabel murmured. "He's the perfect gentleman. At least so far as that stuff goes."

"Okay, cool. So it doesn't seem like you need to worry about it that much." Wendy felt bad for phrasing it like that - she knew Mabel couldn't help worrying about things, any more than Dipper could - but didn't know what else to say.

"Maybe," Mabel admitted. "But it's gonna come at some point! I mean, I'm 18 and he's, what, 21? 22? Something like that. We're old enough that..." And she couldn't finish the sentence.

"You're really shook up about this," Wendy said sympathetically. Then she sighed and bent down, before patting Mabel on the back.

"Okay, first of all: there's nothing wrong with not being ready for sex. Not wanting to have it when you don't want to. You have control over that, Mabes. Don't let any guy, or any gal for that matter, tell you otherwise. Everybody knows when they're ready, and...trust me, if you have sex before you're ready, if you let someone pressure you into it, you're not gonna have fun and you're gonna feel bad about it afterwards."

Mabel sat up, listening intently.

"On the other hand..." Man, Wendy thought, I'm really on the spot here. "There's nothing wrong with being ready for sex, or wanting to have sex, or having sex, either. You're 18, you're an adult now, like you said. I know some people are dicks and will judge you for having those feelings, let alone doing anything about them, but...they're assholes. They're not people whose opinions you should care about, anyway. Fuck 'em. Not literally, of course. But you know what I mean."

Mabel chuckled at Wendy's unwitting double entendre. Warming to the topic in spite of herself, Wendy soldiered on.

"I mean, I've slept with...multiple guys," she admitted, though she hedged her bets about being too specific. "And, I admit it, Mabes. I like sex. It's something I enjoy, like most people. Usually, maybe with one or two exceptions, it's been with guys I'm dating or at least had feelings for. But, I'm me and you're you. Just because I've done it, doesn't mean you have to. I know you never judge me even though I've had kind of a history in that department. And don't think I'm going to judge you if you don't want to, you know, go all the way with Charlie or anybody else. I'm Wendy and you're Mabel. Nothing's gonna change that, even if we get that body swapping carpet back or something."

"Thanks," Mabel said, smiling slightly, but her eyes betrayed unresolved discomfort.

"Maybe it's more complicated than that," Mabel admitted, slowly, reluctantly, as if dancing around a dread secret.

Wendy smiled. "I mean, whatever you feel comfortable with," she said, gently urging her on. Still she refused to talk.

"I don't know if I've told you this," Mabel said finally. "Probably at some point. But...it took me a long time before I really...grew up, you know? I didn't really have..." She gestured helplessly at her chest. "...until I was like 17, and I gained a lot of weight when I was in middle school, and the girls at school, and not a few of the guys, always picked on me about it. I had a few dates, went to a few dances, but...I was always the weird girl, who liked pigs and sweaters and dorky things and whose brother was crazy and who didn't even look nice..."

"Mabel, you are very..." Wendy started to object. But Mabel continued, practically without interruption.

"...And even after I hit my growth spurt and got taller and lost weight and started getting, y'know, more adult, people still remembered that I was Weird Ole Mabel." She sighed, clearly recalling a very painful memory.

"Senior year, I met this guy," she began hesitantly. "His name was Harry Brubaker. He was this really hot boy, like six foot six or something, really dreamy, curly brown hair and beautiful green eyes. Played basketball, ran track, did debate and forensics; he was very popular. He seemed to date every girl in school at one time or another and, like, there were stories about him...Being Weird Ole Mabel, I'd peer at him from the sidelines and giggle and hide my head in my sweater whenever he'd look at me. Because, you know, it's not like there's a chance he'd actually notice me or anything.

"Then we did a play together in fall of senior year. On top of everything else right with him, he could sing, he was a great actor. We did The Fantasticks. There was a big hullabaloo with some parents because that's kind of an adult play; I was the Mute, he was El Gallo the Bandit. But we worked around it, and somehow he asked me to help him memorize his dialogue and dance steps, and then one thing led to another, and...we made out. We didn't go all the way, I wouldn't let him, but it was still farther than anything I'd done with a boy up to then. I was so excited, I practically skipped everywhere for a week after that!

"I thought he was dating a girl - Amanda Palmer, who was like the total queen bee of Piedmont High - at the time, and maybe he was. Hard to tell with him. But he asked me to the fall formal and it was the happiest moment of my life up to that point! I was gloating about it to all my friends and Skyping with Candy and Grenda and driving Dipper and my mom and dad absolutely nuts about the whole thing. Maybe Mabel was finally cool or, you know, sexy!"

"Oh yeah, I remember that," Wendy interrupted. "I didn't remember the guy's name, but you told me about this...like, in an email or two." Or ten, Wendy thought, but she decided not to press it. There were probably some painful details she'd left out.

"So we went to the dance and I wore like this ultra-special pink dress that my friend Anna made for me and had my hair all made up with a flower and everything, and he was wearing this tux and slicked back his hair and it was oh so dreamy. Then we went in and met all his friends as a couple, and I actually talked to some girls and people who'd never given me a time of day! And suddenly it seemed like everything was going great, that Weird Ole Mabel was a thing of the past. I couldn't wait to get home and tell Dipper and everyone what a hit the dance was.

"Then I started dancing to one of my favorite songs...I think it was "Danger Lane To Highway Town," something like that. And it was the most fun I'd ever had. And people actually liked watching me dance! And then...I looked over and saw Harry making out with another girl by the punch bowl. And I felt my heart crushed into a million pieces, right there in front of everybody...I just sort of stared and gawked and wandered into the bathroom and cried.

"And that wasn't the worst part. A few minutes later, I heard two girls coming into the bathroom. One of them I didn't recognize, but the other was the girl Harry had been making out with. And they were talking about me. Like, "I thought Harry came to the dance with that weird girl." And she said, "He did, but at the end of the night he knows what he wants. And he told me he doesn't want some...some...flat-chested freak."

Mabel's voice broke as she said those words. "I...I don't know which part of that made me feel worse," she said, tears welling up in her eyes. "But...I knew that to Harry, to all those people, I would always be Weird Ole Mabel. And maybe I thought..."

"Oh, Mabel," Wendy said, hugging her friend and letting her sob into her shoulder. "Mabel, I'm sorry."

"You know, part of me thinks, hey, I'm not really ready for sex or whatever and neither is Charlie, and maybe that's fine!" Mabel said, fidgeting with her pin. "But then I think...maybe he doesn't want to have sex with me. Maybe deep down he thinks I'm ugly too, and he still thinks that I'm a...freak."

Wendy let her friend cry for another moment, but she wasn't going to let Mabel sink into depression and self-hatred. Not over **that**. She'd been in the same situation herself, and knew how painful it was. And she also knew that Mabel had even less cause than she did to feel that way.

"Mabel, listen to me," Wendy said, her tone motherly, empathetic, but slightly scolding. "First of all, you aren't a freak. Don't even say that, not after everything we've been through together. And you sure aren't ugly - you are beautiful. You are **amazing**! And you have the most awesome sweaters and coolest fashion sense of anyone I've ever met. Ever. Period. Trust me - not everyone can rock a pig-and-sunglasses combo and still look glamorous. In fact, probably no one but you could get away with it!

"Second of all...guys can be jerks. Guys are assholes. Especially high school boys. I could go through all the list of guys who broke up with me for dumb reasons, or who cheated on me, or who only dated me because they thought I was hot or once, to win a bet. Can you believe that? This Harry was a dickhead, period. Maybe he was hot, maybe he pretended to be nice...but he wasn't. Otherwise he wouldn't have done and said those things. Nice guys don't treat their girlfriends like shit.

"That said...I mean, I don't know Charlie much better than you, but he seems like a cool guy. Can't absolute, 100 percent promise you he won't turn out to be a jerk like Harry, but I really doubt it. He's not the type, for one. He's too shy and too nerdy and too, I dunno...he's not the kind of person who dates girls to make himself look cool or feel better. Or to get just one thing out of you. I see the way he looks at you, hear the way he talks about you when you're not around. He's totally into you, man. So I don't think you need to worry about that, at all.

"Besides...if he turns out like Harry, I'll personally break his balls for you."

And Mabel broke out into loud laughter, startling Wendy. But she joined in after a moment, glad that she broke through her friend's anguish.

"I guess you're right," Mabel admitted. "Charlie's not like that. It's just...it's hard not to think that way, you know? Enough people say something for long enough, and you start to believe it."

Wendy nodded, thinking of all the names she'd heard over the years - tomboy, she-male, weirdo, wild girl, flannel-wearing freak, redneck, hick, moron, slut - and how many she'd internalized despite herself. How hard it was to ignore the taunts and slights from classmates and exes and even so-called friends, how much effort she'd put into proving them wrong through her words and actions. She was tough as nails and yet these things still got her down. So she couldn't blame Mabel for feeling the same way.

"Trust me, Mabes, I know all about that," she said without elaborating. "All that matters is that you know that you're awesome. Your friends and family already do. And I'll wager Charlie feels the same way."

"Thanks, Wen," Mabel said, crushing her friend in one of her trademark hugs.

"Any time, Mabes," Wendy said. "What else are friends for?"

"And if you need any advice about Dipper, you know where to find me!" Mabel assured her.

"You've been my go-to source for Dipper advice for over six years," Wendy reminded her. "I wouldn't dream of asking anyone else."

"You'd better not!" Mabel joked. "Aside from Grunkle Stan I don't think you have too many options."

"Ugh," Wendy sputtered. Just the thought of a heart-to-heart with that old geezer made her skin crawl. Then she thought of something:

"You still doing the Art-Theater double major?"

"For now," Mabel said, smiling mischeviously. "Our trip back in time has made me really interested in Political Science, though..."

"Oh God, not you too!" Wendy moaned. "Isn't one dork in your immediate family enough?"

"Nope. What about a triple major?" Mabel enthused, running with the idea. "That way, I can cover **all** the bases!"

"That would be an incredible feat," Wendy said. "Not sure even your brother could pull that off. But if it's what you wanna do, go for it!"

"Cool," Mabel said. "I mean, I already have a head start on all of those things. I've acted in plays, I've designed more artworks than Da Vinci and that soup can guy combined by age 18, actually been a Congresswoman and debated bills and impeachment and stuff. Who knows, someday I can be a Congresswoman again. And then I'll actually ram that pig-in-every-home bill through Congress!"

"Good luck," Wendy chuckled, part hoping that she would succeed, part secretly wishing that she wouldn't, because what would she do with a pig? But mostly she was glad that Mabel's exuberance had bubbled back to the surface.

The two friends sat back and quietly enjoyed the view, watching the mist roll over the hills, spotting a rainbow far in the distance. Mabel felt reassured that she had nothing to worry about. And Wendy felt glad that she could help her friend realize how awesome she really was, inside and out.

**THE END**


End file.
